


find our treasure in the light of the sun

by eynn



Series: i can't go back and lose it all [24]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Found Family, Gen, M/M, Nobody Dies, Post-Order 66, also: underwater jedi temple, everyone finds time to breathe out and start figuring out where they go from here, it's time for the other half of the lifeforms who live there to be comfortable, sith!jedi order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24603508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eynn/pseuds/eynn
Summary: It’s very sad that Mace is by himself.“Don’t be sad,” Obi-Wan says, trying to be encouraging. “There’s got to be someone who wants to hug you.”Mace frowns at him. “What do they have him on?”Cody shrugs. “The usual painkillers.”Ah. That might explain why his legs feel like they’re floating away.~Anakin just stands there under the rain, leaning on the railing. Rex watches him from the shelter of the canopy on the deck. It’s warm enough, now that the Temple had sunk its roots into Kamino and calmed the nexus there. It won’t hurt him to stay out in the rain for a while.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & CC-2224 | Cody, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/CT-7567 | Rex, Padmé Amidala/CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker
Series: i can't go back and lose it all [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658362
Comments: 59
Kudos: 805





	find our treasure in the light of the sun

The light is strange.

That’s the first thing he noticed when he opens his eyes.

Well, not exactly. The first thing he notices is that his headache is gone. But then he notices the light is strange.

He blinks confusedly at the window in his bedroom. There are fish swimming past. It’s been so long since he was actually in his bedroom that he honestly can’t remember if there was always a window there, if it’s something new, or if it had just looked out into a dark alley or had been backed up against a wall and therefore had not actually functioned as a window.

Kit swims past, followed by an entire crowd of small indistinct shapes. They are wearing breathing masks and swim flippers and seem to be enjoying themselves as they chase Kit in circles.

Obi-Wan frowns. Last time he’d seen him, Kit could still barely stand up without assistance. Perhaps it was easier for him to move in water.

They shoot off into the semi-dark and Obi-Wan sighs, letting his head fall back to his pillow, and tries to figure out where he is.

It certainly looks like his rooms in the Temple, but there is an ocean outside his window that may or may not have actually existed before now and his room is too . . . home-like, boxes unpacked and furniture actually put together, and the Force sings around the walls in a way he has never known, untainted and strong, and he can’t hear the hum of the ship’s engines and why is the Temple underwater and _where is he –_

The door opens unexpectedly and he moves on instinct, rolling off the bed (the weird soft bed, too wide, too many blankets, who is allowing all these blankets out of the stores) and ducking under it, reaching for a weapon that isn’t there.

Whoever is coming for him freezes. He hears a soft sigh, then the rustle of fabric. Someone is kneeling beside the bed, looking under it, looking right at him.

Obi-Wan pushes himself further back against the wall, drawing his knees up to his chest and moving his arms protectively over his head.

The person retreats a little, but when he looks up, they’ve only lain down on their stomach, their head on their folded arms, giving him plenty of space to get past and clear and out, and they’re looking so sad and worried. And familiar.

“You going to want to get up today?” they say, softly, calmly, still familiar, and the voice curls down into his brain and produces a sense of safety that he hasn’t felt for years. “It’s a nice day. The sun is actually visible and it isn’t raining too hard. Shaak-Buir is starting her first class and Fox and Wolffe are fussing over her like anxious hens.” He shakes his head a little, dark hair flopping, and smiles.

Obi-Wan knows that smile.

“It’s not like she’s even going to be demonstrating anything, she’s teaching them a culture class, but they’re still hovering –”

“Cody?”

The man’s – Cody’s – eyes brighten, caramel-dark and wide in the dimness. His mouth quirks up a little, hopeful but cautious. “Obi-Wan?”

He reaches out a hand to see if this is real, and the warmth of Cody’s palm against his is unexpectedly grounding.

It’s with regret that he lets go to roll over and get out from under his (his? too soft, too big, wrong) bed. Cody makes a hiss of warning just before his ribs creak and ache in protest. Obi-Wan lies on his back, half under and half not under his bed, and tries to remember why.

Oh yes. He’d broken some of them while fighting Maul.

No, not Maul. Sidious. He runs a hand over his hair, just to check.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

He glances around the room. Maybe it was.

Cody is moving, kneeling, brushing his hands (warm, strong, reliable, safe, rough, competent) up his arms gently as he moves to slip them under his shoulders. “I’m going to pick you up a bit, Obi-Wan,” he warns quietly, and then drags him the rest of the way out from under the bed and –

Huh. Obi-Wan didn’t expect that. He just crawls backwards across the floor until he’s sitting with his back to the wall, and Obi-Wan is held close to his front, arms across his chest and one hand holding both of his own together over his heart.

Cody’s other hand is running through his hair and somehow he knows exactly how it feels the best.

And the floor isn’t too weirdly soft like the bed. Obi-Wan makes a very undignified sound of contentment and feels himself go boneless in his Commander’s lap.

One of his hands is like Anakin’s, he notes with detachment. Mechanical. It throbs a little, but it doesn’t actually hurt as much as he always thought it would. It doesn’t feel as strange, either. He can feel heat and pressure just like his other hand can.

He lost that fighting Sidious too, his brain helpfully supplies, with an angry burst of memory of pain and exhaustion, Shaak being thrown clear but horribly bleeding all over and someone leaping past him to tackle Sidious head-on.

Cody is rocking him slightly, talking quietly, and while he can’t quite focus on the words just the sound of his voice is nice and Obi-Wan relaxes. When had he tensed up again?

The door opens again but it doesn’t scare him this time. Cody is right there.

“He’s doing better today,” Cody says, voice purring against his cheek where it rests on his throat. “I think he recognized me. He said my name.”

“That’s good,” says the new person. They sit next to them against the wall. Obi-Wan opens an eye.

It’s Mace. He likes Mace.

“Hi Mace,” he says.

Cody tenses beneath him. Mace leans forward, eyes widening and a look of surprising shock crossing his face.

“Hello, Obi-Wan,” he says slowly.

Obi-Wan just smiles at him and closes his eyes again, lets himself sink back into that comfortable half-aware state of being.

“Well,” Mace says after a long silence. “That’s encouraging.”

They’re talking about him, in quiet worried tones. He just leans back and enjoys being held. But when did Cody get so cuddly? The last time he remembered, he’d practically run away every time they made eye contact for longer than ten seconds, much less actual physical contact.

Not that he’s going to complain.

His brain, still rebooting, helpfully supplies him with some memories he would rather not have; of Sidious and of the attempted murder of them all by the clones’ hands, of Cody hovering over him as he tried to pull himself out of the quicksand Sidious had put into his head and failed miserably, that one time he’d been really sad and lonely and had forgotten and reached out to hold Cody’s hand while they were walking alone together on a campaign and both of them had been unable to look each other in the face for days after they had yanked their fingers away.

Maybe, by some miracle, Cody had wanted to touch just as badly, but was also terrified of the consequences if anyone ever found out?

It looks like that problem was gone now, though he still can’t quite work out why Cody would be interested in _him_ , of all the people in the galaxy.

Obi-Wan helpfully turns slightly, twining his mech arm around Cody and grabbing a fistful of his shirt in the small of his back, draping his other arm over his shoulder and around his neck, and pressing his nose into his collarbone with a soft sigh of contentment. If Cody has decided that he wants to touch him, he’s going to encourage it as much as he can.

It’s very sad that Mace is by himself.

“Don’t be sad,” he says, trying to be encouraging. “There’s got to be someone who wants to hug you.”

Mace frowns at him. “What do they have him on?”

Cody shrugs. “The usual painkillers.”

Ah. That might explain why his legs feel like they’re floating away.

“I don’t like drugs,” he does not whine at Cody. “Tell Kix to go away. Cody. Cody. I don’t want more drugs. I can do things just fine without them. Cody. Look. I don’t do drugs. That was Qui-Gon. He did drugs, not me.”

He attempts to stand up to show him that he can walk around just fine, maybe do a flip or two, but Cody’s arms are everywhere and he is still held fast in his lap.

“How many arms do you have?” he says, staring at them.

Cody’s laugh against his hair feels amazing.

“Cooody,” he complains. “Did Anakin build you more arms.”

“When’s his next dose of the psychic painkillers Master Che advised?” Mace is saying.

“An hour,” Cody says, effortlessly holding his wrists together and pulling him back to be comfortable again. His arms don’t even move no matter how hard Obi-Wan wriggles, though the muscles flex.

Obi-Wan squeaks. “I like it when you do that,” his mouth says without consulting his brain. “It makes me feel safe and I haven’t felt safe since I got sent to Bandomeer. But I’m ace so I’m sorry if that disappoints you but I just want to cuddle. But you’re pretty and amazing and you can do that thing with the thing – you know, with the leg – and my kyber crystal likes you too so I think we should get married. Unless you think I’m too angry and useless to be stuck with but I promise I’ll do better. You don’t have to pay taxes if you marry a Jedi did you know that Cody? We’re tax-exempt for being a religious order although I think that’s kind of weird because we’re not really religious because what is the Force anyway, it’s not a religion, it’s just there but like Cody. Tax evasion. And you could get citizenship if you don’t have it already I don’t know I think Yoda was doing something about that wasn’t he? You’d never have to pay taxes and that’s why the Senate made it illegal for us to get married like twenty years ago and I think that is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard in my life and I know Quinlan and also went on a lot of diplomatic trips. No. Missions. Thing. Spent lots of time with politicians. Bastards. I hate them. You hate them too don’t you Cody? Your nose twitches when they start making speeches and it always makes me laugh. Actually I just like your whole face in general. Your face. Not other people’s. I know it’s the same but like it’s not. It’s just. You’re _you_.” He begins sobbing into Cody’s neck. “Taxes are the absolute worst Cody. The worst. I don’t even know what half the forms mean. My kyber crystal doesn’t like anyone. Some days it barely likes me and it picked me for some reason I can’t figure out when it could have had anyone but it really likes you that’s why it always finds its way to you when I drop it and I really shouldn’t drop it all the time but I can’t help it. People drop me all the time and they never come back but it always comes back to you so I think that means something.”

“Shhh,” Cody soothes. “You won’t have to do any taxes, cyare.”

Obi-Wan grins at him, eyes half-closed, and reaches up to tug on his hair. It’s curly and thick and the texture of it has always fascinated him and he’s never had the implicit permission to touch it before and he is _living_ for it. “Mesh’la ner’cyar’ika.”

Cody rolls his eyes fondly and Obi-Wan snorts in surprise as his hand comes around to tuck his head beneath his chin. “Settle down,” he says. “Before you say any more things you’ll regret later.”

“I won’t,” Obi-Wan insists. “None of them. They’re all true, you know. I’m just not brave enough to say it usually.” He scowls. “This is why I don’t like drugs Cody. How can I use my masks if I keep saying what I mean instead of what I think people want to hear. I can’t do that and if they know what I think and what I’m really like they’ll leave me. Don’t let people talk to me when they make me take drugs. Please. Cody. Taylir adate be’chaaj. Gedet’ye. N’ba’slanar ni.”

“Ni nu ba’slanar. Nu draar,” he reassures, and Obi-Wan drifts back to sleep, safely tucked up in Cody’s lap.

“He was _how kriffing old_ when he got sent to Bandomeer?” is the last thing he hears. Cody sounds angry, but he knows he isn’t angry at him, so everything is just fine.

~

Anakin just stands there under the rain, leaning on the railing. Rex watches him from the shelter of the canopy on the deck. It’s warm enough, now that the Temple had sunk its roots into Kamino and calmed the nexus there. It won’t hurt him to stay out in the rain for a while.

He watches Anakin watch the rain on the sea and marvels at how . . . nice, Kamino is now. It had been a harsh place to grow up on, both because of the people overseeing them and because of the constant storms, but those are both gone now.

Shaak and Plo, even injured, had gone through the longnecks like they were paper, terrifying and eerily serene in their cloaks of fury. The other darjetii had only trailed behind them to fix the structural damage they caused and comfort the frightened cadets.

The Kaminoans had been so sure of their absolute control over the vod’e that they had never planned for them turning against them, and had been caught completely unprepared. They were scientists and experimenters, not soldiers, and now they were no more.

The few who had been the most likely to treat them as people and not as things had surrendered and were now kept under guard in comfortable rooms deep inside the Temple. There they could experiment and create to their hearts’ content, but never again on living things. The Temple itself would keep them there until it deemed them to no longer be a threat.

Rex watches Anakin’s sun-bleached hair turn dark with water and thinks of the longnecks on their knees, hands in the air, shaking as Shaak whirled closer, unseeing. Of Anakin leaping forward to stand in front of her, telling her that they had to be better than what Sidious made them and it had to start now.

No more war crimes, he had said. Rex isn’t exactly certain what a ‘war crime’ is, but he’s willing to learn.

Apparently killing unarmed surrendering enemies was one of them, to start with.

It had been a scary moment until Shaak registered who Anakin was, and then saw that her enemies had surrendered and who exactly they were, and then she had sheathed her lightsaber and almost collapsed into his arms, her energy gone and rage spent. It had been amazing that she had lasted that long as it was, and afterwards she had spent two days in a bacta tank to repair the wounds she had torn open.

“He never saw rain until he was ten.”

Rex startles slightly. Padmé has come to stand beside him. She is childless and he can’t stop the worried frown. She smiles at him and he feels warm beyond what the sun is giving him.

“Padma is with Aayla.”

Rex nods. Not that it’s his place to tell them who they should let Padma be with, quite, but he knows that Aayla will take good care of her. She’s excited for her own child and fusses over Padma like a besotted aunt, claiming that it’s ‘practice’. They all know she just wants to hold her.

“Why?” he asks.

“He grew up on Tatooine,” Padmé answers. “The jetii only found him when he was nine, and it doesn’t rain on Coruscant.”

Rex wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Tatooine was a dustball,” he remembers. “Oh. Is that why he was so . . . restless, when we were there?”

“Probably.” Padmé sighs and moves closer, so that Rex can feel the heat of her arm against his side and her head is bobbing in the corner of his eye as she also watches Anakin chasing raindrops. “It’s also where he thought Shmi died, when Sidious gave him that horrible memory of killing all those Tuskens in a rage.”

“He’s recovering well from all of it.”

“I’m so scared that it’s only a front,” she admits, tipping her head to rest against his chest. She hesitates before sliding a warm arm around his waist and looks up at him. “May I?”

Suddenly nervous even though he’s spent the night with her curled up to his back at least once, Rex nods and feels his pulse flutter as she leans into him. She’s so small and at the same time so vast. _This is why Anakin fell for her so fast,_ he thinks. _This is what he could sense._

He settles an arm around her shoulders and they stand together, watching Anakin play in the rain. “I don’t think he’s deceiving us,” he says after a silence. “I don’t think he wants to, anymore. Sidious is gone, he knows we don’t hate him. He can see that we won’t abandon him or . . . or devalue him for having times when he isn’t strong. He doesn’t have any reason to hide from us anymore.”

Padmé relaxes even more. “Thank you, Rex. That means a lot to me, what you say about him. You know him better than I do by now, after all.”

“No, I –”

She butts her head against his shoulder. “You do,” she insists. “You’ve seen him almost every day since this war started. I’ve barely spent three months all together living with him in my entire life and two weeks of that were when I was fourteen and he was nine. I love him dearly, I never want to leave him, but he’s still a stranger to me.”

“I’m a stranger too,” Rex points out.

She laughs. “Not so much. I’ve heard so much about you from Cody that it feels like I’ve been tagging along on your missions for years.”

“You talk to Cody?”

“Mmm, yeah. It was sort of an accident at first, but then he needed help with the Senate reports and I needed help understanding what Ani was going through out there and –” she shrugs. “We talked at least once a week. Usually whenever both of us could coordinate an hour of free time. We’d sit back with whatever decent alcohol we could get our hands on and complain about our shitty lives. He needed someone to vent to about Obi-Wan who wasn’t going to report him for insubordination and I needed someone to vent to about the dickheads in the Senate who wasn’t going to have me arrested for treason.”

Rex looks down at her. She’s smiling, content and soft.

“Why me?” he asks.

Padmé blinks at him.

“Why do you want to let me live with you, then? Why not him? Is it just because I’m Anakin’s?”

“Oh, no, Rex, no, never,” she says in a rush, eyes round. “That’s not – just no. Eugh. Cody’s vod’ika to me.” She stretches up on her toes and presses a quick dry kiss to his cheek. “I’m attracted to you of my own free will and completely independently of any affiliation to Anakin, I’m afraid.”

Anakin slips on the wet flooring and falls with a yelp. They watch him put his hands down into a puddle, snatch them up, look with big eyes at the standing water on the floor, and then begin splashing his hands into it like a youngling.

“I cannot believe I agreed to marry that dumbass,” Padmé says, but she’s smiling.

“I can’t believe you want to marry me,” Rex says under his breath, but she hears him.

“I wish you could see yourself as I do,” she says. “You’re so careful with Padma but I know you could kill a droid with nothing but your hands to protect her. You know how to listen but you don’t let yourself be swallowed up by other people’s ideas. I don’t know how to tell you why I love you, Rex, but I do and you are worth it.”

The moment is ruined by Anakin, who squelches over to where they are staring into each other’s eyes and tackles them into a group hug, dragging them out into the warm rain to get thoroughly soaked. Rex ends up with Padmé trapped against his side and Anakin’s dripping head shoved into his ribs, and he lies on the deck of one of the exterior walkways of Tipoca City and laughs like he had never thought he would dare to. Not there.


End file.
